


Here and Hereafter

by darcie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 04:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darcie/pseuds/darcie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title: Here and Hereafter<br/>Pairing: Harry/Louis<br/>Summary: Harry and Louis are meant to be. Throughout history they have always found each other, and they always will. Reincarnation!fic.<br/>Rating: R<br/>Disclaimer: Unfortunately this is fiction.<br/>Warning: Mentions of death.<br/>Author Note: Their names are not always "Harry" and "Louis." Most of the time they are not, but I kept their names similar so that you will know who's who. Also, don't expect this to be entirely historically accurate. I did do some research, but it's not going to be perfect lol. Title taken from a book about reincarnation by the same name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Past

_Ancient Greece, 435 B.C._  
  
  
Heron admired Loukianos as he climbed out of the water. The sun shone in his eyes, so he shielded his vision with his hand as he sat up. Loukianos came over to him, smiling widely, and sat at Heron's side.  
  
Heron couldn't stop staring at the other boy. They had known each other their whole lives; their mothers had introduced them when they were small, and they had become fast friends. But lately things had changed.  _They_  had changed. When Heron was faced with adulthood, it made him want to run to everything that tied him to his youth, especially Loukianos.  
  
Loukianos knew more about what he wanted to do. He loved the theatre. He loved entertainment. And Heron loved watching him. Loukianos looked down at him for a moment, smiling, before Heron could take no more. He surged up and captured Loukianos' lips with his own. Loukianos smiled against Heron's lips and kissed him back, pulling Heron closer. Heron loved it, loved him. He didn't care that Loukianos was wet and he especially liked that his skin was exposed.  
  
When the kiss ended, they stayed entwined. Heron did not want to let go, ever.  
  
"You should be like this with a woman." Loukianos said after a few moments of silence.  
  
Heron didn't respond right away. Yes, he had plenty of women he could marry. He knew several attractive girls he would not mind taking for a wife. But none of them could ever be as beautiful as Loukianos.  
  
Loukianos, if dressed like a female, could pass for one. Heron often contemplated having Loukianos do just that. They could leave this city, go somewhere no one knew of them or their families. But he knew that was not fair to Loukianos. He could not force this boy to dress like a woman for the rest of his life. The fact that Loukianos was a man was one of the many things Heron loved about him.  
  
"I do not want a woman." Heron said simply, looking at Loukianos. The look in Loukianos' eyes was gentle, apologetic. He thought this could not last. Heron wanted to make it last as long as possible. "But I do not want this life for you."  
  
"This life? With a man? Is that what you mean?" Loukianos asked, tilting his head slightly.  
  
Heron reached up a bit and touched Loukianos' face, stroking his cheek. "If we stay like this, one of us will face the consequences. While we will not die, one of us will face mockery, scandal, and gossip."  
  
"It will be me." Loukianos concluded. And it was true. Loukianos, often the one in the woman's role when they were together, would be the one to face ridicule from anyone who cared about their relationship. There were many, some scholars, writers, and artists, who would understand about them. Heron had always suspected some of them of participating in similar acts. But some would gossip about them. "People will always say what they want, Heron."  
  
"True." Heron kissed Loukianos' cheek, then his chin, and his nose. "I love you, Loukianos. I want better for you."  
  
"There is no better." Loukianos replied, and kissed his lips again. They stayed like that for few moments. This was their secret place; no one usually came here. They had played her as children. This was where Heron had first revealed his feelings to Loukianos, and where Loukianos had first kissed him. This was where they had first done more than kiss, in the dark.  
  
"You should marry." Loukianos pressed, "Or I should."  
  
Heron searched his eyes. He knew that even if one of them married, that would not stop them from being together. They would find excuses, always find each other. Heron didn't want to be disloyal to the woman he married, and knew he could only marry if the woman knew the truth. But no woman would want that.  
  
"We will go away." Heron said, standing. He pulled Loukianos up with him with his hands. "Where no one can see us, no one will know us. I will give you everything."  
  
"You already do, friend." Loukianos poked Heron in his side, which always made Heron laugh. He doubled over from being tickled and then launched himself at Loukianos, pushing him down on the ground. They wrestled playfully until they neared the edge of the water. Loukianos gave Heron a mischievous smile before giving him a push. Heron held on to him tightly, and they both fell into the water, laughing.  
  
  
 _England, 1303_  
  
  
Louis couldn't see what else there was for him here, though as he looked around the farm he knew he would never know anything else. But he was an adult now; he was expected to take a wife and carry on his work. His mother had been too easy with him, perhaps because he was such a tremendous help with his sisters. Still, he wondered what else there was. He wondered what it was like to travel, to have a fortune.  
  
He reached the edge of town and continued on his horse until he reached the usual spot. He stopped and climbed off his horse. He often left her in the same spot under the protection of an older man who lived just inside of town, a carpenter who would soon retire his business to his apprentice. Louis had never met this apprentice, but every time the man spoke about him, Louis wanted to meet this boy. He did not often do much other than work, but on occasion he did wish for some companionship other than family. He didn't dare tell his mother that; she would remind him that he should find a wife and start his own family. That, of course, would be the rightful companionship.  
  
The bag of crops hung over his shoulder as he walked. He knew the way, glancing around to avoid strangers in the street as he continued on his way. He completed his task without trouble as usual and though he spotted some merchants selling tools and clothing, he knew he should go home. He had more work to do. There was  _always_  work to do.  
  
As he reached the edge of town again, Louis spotted a boy feeding his horse. The boy smiled as he pet the horse with one hand and giving him a bit of grass with the other. As Louis approached the boy, he realized the boy was around his age. He had curly hair and brown, wide, focused eyes. His clothes were decent, less dirty than Louis' own. Louis realized that this boy must be the apprentice.  
  
When the boy noticed Louis, he gave him a smile, and Louis found himself studying the shape of the boy's mouth. His lips were full and pink. Louis had to admit that this boy was rather handsome. Their eyes met and Louis felt like he had to smile back.  
  
"Hello," said the boy, still looking into his eyes. "Is this your horse?"  
  
"Yes," answered Louis. Still, he didn't take hold of his horse like he should in the presence of a stranger. This boy didn't feel like a stranger, which was quite unusual. Louis felt like he knew the boy, like he had known him all his life. "You have been training to become a carpenter?"  
  
"I have." the boy replied. He bit his lip as if he was embarrassed, but then he continued, "I am Edward."  
  
Unusual. Everything about this boy was so ordinary but so unusual. But Louis did not care. He introduced himself and asked Edward about his apprenticeship.  
  
As Edward spoke, Louis realized Edward was just the companion he'd hoped for.  
  
  
  
 _Massachusetts, December, 1692_  
  
  
  
The worst of the terror was over, but Henry knew he would never forget it.  
  
When he had come to America three years ago, he hadn't imagined anything like this. So many innocent people had been put to death, and for what? Because some silly girls said their specters had appeared to them? Because these girls, unwise and untrained in religion, had accused these people of consorting with the Devil?  
  
Henry dared not speak of it, but sometimes he thought that if religion made people do this, perhaps it was not such a good thing after all.  
  
He had learned about religion his whole life. His mother had incorporated Biblical lessons into her own lessons so that Henry and his sister would grow to be well-learned, kind, and thoughtful people. It helped them make it through when hey were poor and close to starving.  
  
They had come to America because they believed it was a new start with new opportunities. Henry had been fourteen when they came to America, and now at seventeen, he wondered why. His family had made a good living. They each contributed, and made sure to socialize. They attended Church every Sunday.  
  
 _But look at what the Church had done_. Henry gazed out over the graves of the dead. Now that the horror was over, family and friends felt brave enough to decorate the graves of those who had died, whether they'd been executed or they died in jail.  
  
It was scary, coming here. He never told anybody about it because he did not want to face accusations himself. He wondered if he cared too much, wished he could have defended these innocent people. Every time he came here, he prayed for everyone who had been involved, even the girls who had started this horror. They needed the Lord's forgiveness now more than ever.  
  
When Henry began to leave, he spotted William Thompson just outside. He looked hesitant, like he wanted to go in to pay his respects, but he was worried that he did not belong there.  
  
"William." Henry said, and despite the gravity of the situation he found it impossible to keep a straight face. William always cheered him up, the negativity during their past few conversations. William adjusted his hat slightly when he saw Henry, and nodded to him.  
  
"I came here because..." William couldn't seem to finish his sentence.  
  
"You were curious." Henry guessed. He knew William fairly well. They had met in Salem Village the year Henry had come to America, and they had quickly become friends. Henry had only known him a short while, but he trusted William more than almost anyone, save his close family.  
  
"I also knew you would be here. George Blackburn told me he sees you come here nearly every day."  
  
They fell into a synchronized walk. When William's hand brushed his, Henry's heart jumped. He quickly stepped away just a little. "I just cannot understand it." Henry said. "All of these people. Dead. And they used the Lord to justify their murders."  
  
William nodded solemnly. "Everyone was scared of the Devil. They still are, but I do think everyone will be smarter about it now."  
  
Henry turned to William. He had to know. "Did you believe the girls' stories?"  
  
"It was difficult," William said, avoiding his eyes, "I did not entirely believe, of course, but it was difficult not to get caught up in the situation. I do not want an old woman's specter to appear to me in the night." Henry nearly replied that no one wanted that, but he just nodded and William continued. "But to hang them without evidence was unacceptable. It worries me that this could happen in the 'New World'."  
  
"And poor Giles Corey," Henry added. He could not imagine which death he would have preferred. Pressed to death by stone, like Corey, or hanged like many of the others.  
  
They continued to walk. Henry pointed to the graves of the victims and William paid his respects. These graves were just at the edge of the woods, which Henry never ventured into. He did not believe everything the Church told him, but the forest did frighten him, especially in the dark. Because it was winter, it would become dark very soon.  
  
William, of course, said, "Let's go further. Into the forest."  
  
Henry stared at William wide-eyed, "I... I do not think that is a good idea."  
  
It wasn't just because he was frightened of the Devil, though that did have to do with it. The problem was William, and he  _knew_  it. William was dangerous; he made Henry feel like he was invincible. He made Henry feel as if sinning should not be punished. As they had grown closer, Henry realized why, and he knew he had to keep his distance from William. He could not be alone with William.  
  
He didn't want to be unnatural. He didn't want to hang. He didn't want to be damned.  
  
William blinked. He knew. He had to know. "We must talk. You cannot ignore me forever, Henry."  
  
"I have not been ignoring you. If I were ignoring you, I would not have spoken to you about the trials. They disturbed me just as much as you."  
  
"You speak of the trials, but not what trials you." William matched Harry's gaze evenly. "You have not told me why you have forgotten me, dear friend."  
  
"I have not forgotten."  
  
William's lips parted and he seemed to draw in a deep breath. "Henry-"  
  
"No." Henry interrupted. "I will not go into the forest with you. I  _can_ not go into the forest with you. Go home to your wife, William. And pray."  
  
Henry turned around before he changed his mind and walked away, back to the village. He couldn't understand why this hurt. He felt like his heart would come out of his chest, and maybe it would. Maybe it was the Devil, or maybe he was being punished. He did not know.  
  
However, he did know one thing for certain. He would leave Massachusetts. He would busy himself. He would study literature, religion, languages. He would do whatever possible so that he did not give in to temptation.  
  
Despite how much it hurt.  
  
  
  
 _New York, January, 1860_  
  
  
It was preposterous, thought Harry, that he should have to sit through this meeting. While he knew he would as long as people were bought and sold, he would attend these meetings, he still thought it was stupid. America was not nearly as progressive as England, but that was why he had left home in the first place. He wanted to make a difference.  
  
It had, of course, been against the wishes of his family. They didn't understand his ambitions. He had left England with a generous amount of money, though not as much as he would have right now if he'd stayed. But this was his home now, he mused as he stood from his seat. He had to make the best of it.  
  
He had only been here a week and had settled in fairly well. He had a nice-sized home, though he lived there by himself and it could be lonely. He had received invitations from influential members of society, people who had heard of his family, men who had daughters eligible to marry.  
  
But Harry had told them he was still getting settled, and when he had learned about meetings for abolitionists to discuss plans and ideas, he started to busy himself. This meeting had been full of discussions about the failure at Harpers Ferry. John Brown, who had recently been executed, had led the rebellion. Harry had to admire the man; he and those involved had been willing to die for the cause. However, the meeting had left him somewhat emotionally drained. He didn't wish to speak to anyone after the meeting.  
  
Despite the fact, he introduced himself to the other men, ones he had not yet met. He put a smile on his face and shook hands with anyone who offered.  
  
When he stepped outside, he was shocked by how cold it was. The temperature had dropped a great deal over the past few hours. He pulled his coat closer and his hat as tight as he could.  
  
When he passed by a pub window, he saw a familiar face and stopped. There, sitting at one of the tables, drinking tea, was someone he recognized. The young man - around Harry's age - sat was reading the newspaper, looking concerned. Harry didn't know his name, but he knew his face. They had been on the same ship to America. They hadn't spoken, but they had exchanged knowing glances. They were both young men, traveling alone, starting new lives. Or so Harry had assumed.  
  
He walked into the pub before he could stop his feet. When he reached the table the other boy sat at, he stopped. "Hello."  
  
The boy looked up, and his eyes widened. "Oh, hello! I know you."  
  
"And I you. May I sit?" Harry asked.  
  
"Of course."  
  
Harry reached out his hand."I am Harry Bantam." he said as they shook.  
  
The other boy nodded. "Louis Williams. We were on the same ship from Britain."  
  
"Yes." Harry confirmed. "I did see you, though we were in different classes."  
  
Louis' cheeks reddened and immediately Harry regretted saying it. He wasn't he bragging about being in first class, while Louis had been in third. He had simply been stating fact, but mostly he had said something stupid because he felt nervous. That was quite strange, though. He interacted well with people, but something about Louis made him nervous. "Yes."  
  
"Did you come here alone?" Harry pressed. He knew that Louis must be wondering why Harry would care. But Harry couldn't help but care about everyone. He had made friends with all of his family's servants at home, much to everyone's shock. He wanted everyone to have an equal chance, and that meant treating everyone equally. Though perhaps that was a bit radical.  
  
"Yes," Louis repeated. "I have been staying with family friends, but I hope to find a job. I asked here just an hour ago, but they have no place for me."  
  
Suddenly, Harry knew why he had walked into the pub. He knew there had been a reason. It was fate, he mused. "I am looking for someone to come work for me." Harry told Louis, "To do some work around the house that I cannot manage myself. Would you come work for me?" Louis was quiet. He was probably not used to this, but neither was Harry. If it had been anyone else, Harry would go through a series of interviews with the applicant, but he felt like he knew this fellow. "You would have your own bedroom, of course. Generous pay, usual days off. I have a small library, and-"  
  
"Yes, of course!" Louis stood. "Of course!"  
  
Harry knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help but give Louis a big smile.  
  
  
  
"I fear I am not a very traditional person." Harry led Louis down the corridor by candlelight. "I do not plan to host regular dinner parties, and I do not have a servants quarters. You will stay in one of the regular bedrooms." This house was much smaller than his one at home, but he still had plenty of room for Louis to stay in and have visitors. "You may choose whichever you like."  
  
Louis was in awe as he walked, but finally stopped outside one bedroom. He turned to Harry. "May I?"  
  
Harry gestured his approval. "Go in, of course."  
  
Louis entered the room and set down his own candle on a small table. He looked around, surprised by the size of the bedroom. And though he was too hesitant to say it, Harry knew what Louis wanted to say.  
  
"This room will be yours." Harry assured him. "And if you ever need me, my room is across the hall."  
  
"Thank you, sir. Should I call you sir? I have never worked in someone's house before."  
  
"I'm afraid you will still be inexperienced in that area. Most who do jobs like these live in servants quarters in more formal households. But you may call me whatever you wish. Harry, Bantam, Sir. It does not matter much to me. Not when there are much more important things in life to worry about." He turned. "Come, let's bring your luggage up."  
  
  
Louis, it turned out, was more than inexperienced in looking after a household. He was terrible at it. Every time he tried to clean, he would break something. Every time he began to unpack Harry's things from luggage and crates, he would lose something. Every time he attempted to cook, he was unsuccessful. Harry eventually hired a cook and tried to reconsider Louis' place in his household.  
  
But he couldn't. He couldn't let Louis go. He had no work experience, and he really was trying his best. He was a bit mischievous; sometimes he took shortcuts in his work. But he meant well, and he was honest whenever he did something like break a plate. So he kept Louis on, but decided to change his position. Harry did not particularly need one, but Louis was now his personal secretary. When Harry told others of Louis' position in his house, everyone thought it was quite odd. Why not let Louis go and hire a housemaid? Harry decided to hire one, but still keep Louis. There was just something about Louis that Harry liked; he was not willing to let him go.  
  
One late afternoon, the following November, Louis knocked on Harry's bedroom door. Harry turned as Louis stepped inside the bedroom. "Mr. Bantam-"  
  
"How many times do I have to tell you, Louis? You call me Mr. Bantam, but I'm younger than you. You do not have to call me-"  
  
"I work for you." Louis interrupted, and then realizing he had done so, he stammered, "I-I'm sorry."  
  
Harry waved his hand. This was one of the reasons he did not discuss Louis' employment with others in society. He turned to the mirror to adjust his tie.  
  
"I was looking through your datebook," Louis continued, "It shows that there is a party tonight, but it does not say whether you accepted the invitation."  
  
"I did not accept." Harry said. "You would find those to send the invitation very boring."  
  
Louis laughed, but hid his smile behind his wrist. The smile seemed to light up Louis' whole face. Harry couldn't help but smile back. "It will just be the two of us tonight. I do have a letter to write tonight."  
  
"Very good." Louis said. "I will be downstairs at six."  
  
  
  
"That is all." Harry said as he finished reciting his letter to Louis. He turned from the window and walked over to the table. He leaned down and signed his name. He felt Louis' breath on his neck, which Harry tried to ignore. He pursed his lips. He shouldn't feel so warm. He shouldn't feel like smiling. He stepped away from Louis toward his bookshelves. He took a book from the shelf without reading the title and opened it. He did not know why Louis was distracting to him, but he would distract himself from the distraction.  
  
That was when a cold breeze came through the window and blew out some of the candles. It grew too dark to read unless he held the book up to his face. He turned around. Louis had stood to close the windows. "It's cold."  
  
"It's nearly winter." Harry said, looking away from Louis deliberately. And then, because he couldn't do that for long, he looked up. Louis had come closer as he picked up a lantern to relight it.  
  
"What was that you were reading?"  
  
Harry blinked at him when their eyes met. For some unknown reason, he could not speak. Louis must have known. He smiled as if he knew a secret, though they hadn't discussed anything in particular. "Oh. I wasn't... reading it?" He put a smile on his face, trying to match Louis'. "How was your day? Your morning off?"  
  
Louis, for some reason, found this funny. "Why do you ask?"  
  
Harry crossed the room and busied himself, straightening things on the desk. "You never speak of yourself... or your life in England. Are you not comfortable with the subject?"  
  
"I am, Sir, I just... you have never asked."  
  
Oh. That was true. Louis would speak of news, of music. He gave his opinions of events Harry attended to make appearances. However, Louis did not discuss his past. "Do you miss your family terribly?"  
  
Louis' smile changed. Suddenly he was sad. "Yes. Although I do write them."  
  
"Do they wonder why you are still here?" Harry teased. "Because my mother and father do." Louis didn't respond. "Come."  
  
Louis followed Harry to the sitting room where Harry bent to light the fire. Again, he mused that he was much too independent to need servants. When the fire was lit, he gestured for Louis to sit. Harry sat across from him. "What is your home like?"  
  
Louis smiled a little. "Small. I have a few sisters. My father works and my mother cares for my sisters. But we all... they all love each other."  
  
"They love you as well, of course."  
  
"Yes." Louis confirmed, "But they have not seen me for nearly a year. I do wish they could come here."  
  
"Perhaps they will someday."  
  
It was dark in the room except for the light from the fire. But when their eyes met, the dark didn't matter. If Louis wanted to speak with him, that mattered. Everyone he knew said it was unorthodox, making friends with his servant, but they did not understand that he didn't consider Louis his servant. He considered Louis the most sincere friend he had.  
  
The problem was that he had many friends. But no other friendships were like his and Louis'. It was not necessarily about being employer and servant. It was how he felt about their friendship. It made him feel... made him feel as if...  
  
"Are you alright, Sir?" Louis asked suddenly.  
  
"I wish you would call me Harry."  
  
"That's hardly appropriate, Sir." Louis' grin grew, and Harry knew Louis was teasing him. Harry laughed, feeling more calm, more free, than he ever did at society events. He would be content to stay here with Louis and pay no attention to his obligations.  
  
Then against his better judgment he stood and sat next to Louis. A smile played at Louis' lips. "What are you doing, Sir?"  
  
"Sir, sir, sir." Harry rolled his eyes.  
  
"My Lord."  
  
"Louis-"  
  
"Mister Bantam-"  
  
Harry did not realize he'd reached out to touch Louis' face until Louis blinked at him with the softest look in his eyes. Louis did not shy away. But though he had been teasing Harry, he was serious now.  
  
"Harry," Louis finally said. The moment the name left his lips, Louis seemed to grow nervous. His eyes shifted, and Harry licked his lips.  
  
"Look at me." Harry commanded.  
  
Louis finally focused on Harry, though perhaps he was fearful Harry would strike him at any moment. But Harry knew he would never strike Louis. Not for feeling something that he also felt. He did not know if this was a sin, but if it was, they would share it.  
  
He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Louis'. Louis kissed back softly at first, and then harder, growing more eager as the moments passed. This, Harry thought, was what a kiss should be like. It should be passionate, and it should be with someone who made your heart feel strange and wonderful. Not only did it feel strange and wonderful, but it also felt familiar. It felt like they'd done this several times before, or that they knew that they were supposed to in the past. That was ridiculous, though, as they had only met earlier this year.  
  
Soon, Louis pulled back when he realized what he was doing. He stood quickly. "I'm sorry, Sir. I'm very sorry! I will hand in my resignation at once!"  
  
"Why would you do that?" Harry asked, looking up at him. "I want you here, Louis. Truly, I must have been coming up with excuses from the beginning. You're not good at cleaning or waiting on guests, and you have terrible penmanship. Truthfully, I should have let you go long ago. But I just... want you here. Please stay. I will say nothing about this, no matter if you stay or leave, but let me make it clear that I feel you belong here with me."  
  
Louis let out a shuddering breath and then sank back onto the cushion. When he did so, Harry reached out and pulled Louis forward by his shirt. As their mouths met again, Harry realized that his bedroom was across the hall from Louis'.  
  
He had never really believed in fate, but he was beginning to.  
  
  
 _Italy, 1907_  
  
  
Harry had no idea what he was doing here. In this... place. He'd heard it existed, but he knew better than to actually come here. His curiosity had won out in the end. This was why he had come to Italy, after all. He had given his mum the excuse that he wanted to travel. Though he hadn't had much money for this, she had let him go, as long as he promised to write her letters.  
  
She had no idea he would seek out a place like this.  
  
He wasn't Italian, and he didn't pretend to be. Though he was trying to learn the language, he was still terrible at speaking it. Though he knew enough to make whatever he said sound good. So when he spoke to the man at the door, offering him a sweet smile, he was let in.  
  
The first thing he noticed... homosexuals everywhere. There were men dressed like women, men gawking at  _those_  men, and men dressed somewhere in between man and woman. Harry looked down at his own clothes. He had dressed plainly. Perhaps, deep down, he wished to remain unnoticed.  
  
The purpose of this trip was still confusing to Harry. He had become aware in the recent years that he had an attraction to men. However, could not act on this at home. This was why he had come here. If he was attracted to men, he would discover why. He would perhaps get the experience he couldn't in England.  
  
As he walked further into the room, people started looking at him. Older men, greying with wrinkles, licked their lips when they saw him. Some men just stared. Harry even saw a boy who couldn't have been more than fifteen staring at him, though he blushed and turned away as soon as Harry saw him.  
  
He realized something, though. He could have his pick of anyone in this place. The looks he got... they were ones indicating many people were attracted to him. Harry smiled despite feeling strange about all of this. He still wasn't completely sure what he was doing here. He looked around, trying to spot somewhere to sit.  
  
"You look lost." someone behind him said in a somewhat thick Italian accent. He spun around to see a boy around his age, perhaps around twenty or twenty-one, standing there. He didn't _look_  Italian, not entirely, anyway. His hair was straight and light-brown, and his eyes were blue and focused on Harry's own. The boy's features were not quite masculine. He was... pretty. Harry let out a deep breath. He didn't know this boy, but he immediately knew he wanted to. The boy stuck out his hand. "I am Luigino, but everyone calls me Lu."  
  
"Your English is really good." Harry blurted out, and immediately wondered if he'd offended Lu.  
  
But Lu chuckled good-naturedly. "My mother is English and my father is Italian. I grew up learning both languages. You're British?"  
  
Harry nodded, taking the hand that Lu had offered. "I'm Harry. I'm just visiting."  
  
"Italy or this place?" Lu questioned as Harry dropped his hand.  
  
"Both." Harry said, trying to sound brave. "Though... this isn't what I expected."  
  
Lu seemed to understand. He smiled. "Yes, it is very strange here at first. You learn to accept it. Though I have to admit, I am glad that you came dressed as you are."  
  
Harry couldn't be certain, but the way Lu looked at him made him think that Lu was being flirtatious, or at least trying. He couldn't help but be intrigued by that. He may have only met this boy a moment ago, but he seemed so familiar. It was as if they knew each other. "Why is that?" he asked, stepping forward just a bit. Lu's smile widened.  
  
Lu closed his mouth and pursed his lips. "Let me buy you a drink."  
  
  
  
It turned out that kissing a boy was not unlike kissing a girl. Harry found out that Lu quite liked to be in control of the situation. When Lu brought Harry home with him, Harry wasn't sure what would happen. But he found himself pushed down on Lu's couch, up against his wall, and finally down onto Lu's bed. And his mouth on Lu's felt fantastic, even  _better_  than kissing a girl if he was honest with himself. He wrapped his arms around Lu as they kissed.  
  
Lu had him pressed down against the bed, but he kneeled over Harry and leaned down as he worked at Harry's shirt and trousers with his hands. Harry was nervous; of course he was. But he also knew that he didn't want to stop. He hadn't known this boy for very long, but he knew that he wanted to do this. With him. It didn't feel as random as the situation deemed. Harry had a feeling that if he hadn't met Lu he would have gone back to his temporary room alone.  
  
But no. Instead Lu started to slide Harry's trousers down to his ankles, and Harry sat up just a little so that Lu could remove his shirt. But when Harry's clothing was on the floor, Lu stopped to look at him.  
  
"You have not done this before." Lu concluded, though Harry hadn't mentioned this. At the club they had talked about many things. Schooling, family, friends... even books. They had a lot in common, Harry realized, but they were still quite different. Lu was more sarcastic and quick-witted than Harry was, and Harry was more intelligent in terms of knowledge. But they intrigued each other and soon enough Harry had leaned forward to kiss Lu. As soon as he pulled back, the agreement was there that they should leave together.  
  
And now here they were. Harry looked up into Lu's eyes. "I haven't, no. But... somehow this feels familiar to me. You feel familiar to me. Is that strange?"  
  
Lu touched Harry's cheek. "I feel the same."  
  
Harry wondered if he would ever have the willpower to go back to England now that he'd met Lu.


	2. Present and Past

_2013_  
  
  
The dreams, nightmares actually, started during their third year as a band. They were about to start their new U.K. tour, which had been sold out for about a year already. Harry had had some trouble with vocals due to his voice changing a bit, so everyone had made sure to give him more appropriate solos, higher keys, bigger notes, rather than lower ones. He was starting to feel confident again, and he didn't want anything to mess that up.  
  
Then, of course, the dreams started and things got weird.  
  
When Harry went to sleep, he felt like he was sent to other worlds. Well, maybe not other worlds, but  _different times_. He could smell the odors of the streets during the Middle Ages. He felt the shock and horror of war. He felt the sadness and longing as he traveled far from home in the Colonial times. It was all too real, and he was always relieved to wake up.  
  
The weirdest part of all was that Louis was in these dreams.  
  
Alright, maybe it wasn't so weird to dream about Louis. They'd known each other since the X Factor competition and had always been...  _quite_  close. But in the dreams, it felt like a given that Louis would be there. No matter what he looked like, Harry always recognized him. And every time Harry found him, there was a sense of fulfillment. Every time they parted in the dreams, Harry felt like he was being stabbed in the stomach, and he quickly woke up.  
  
In the dreams, they were... more than friends. Harry could admit to himself that maybe he had a bit of a crush on Louis and that caused these dreams, but these felt like more than that. The dreams felt like memories, if it was possible. But it wasn't possible, because Harry wasn't some kid from Ancient Greece or the 1900s. He was just  _himself_. He was in the twenty-first century and he had no reason to doubt that he always had been.  
  
But they had such an effect on Harry that he was overtired during the day due to not sleeping after the nightmares. Every time he or Louis died in war or... were  _executed_ , he refused to sleep for a couple nights. And everyone noticed. But it was Louis who came up to him and asked if he had insomnia. They were in their hotel room, because they were the only two who still shared, and Louis had come in acting very serious after rehersals.  
  
"I don't have insomnia." Harry answered, laying back on the bed. He closed his eyes briefly though he wouldn't allow himself to sleep. "I'm having nightmares."  
  
Though his eyes were closed, Harry could sense Louis walking toward him, and eventually he sat on the bed next to Harry. "What are they about?"  
  
Harry opened his eyes and hesitated. "They're, uh... weird."  
  
"Weird how?" Louis pressed. He reached out to brush some hair out of Harry's eyes and Harry's heart nearly stopped. But he'd mastered keeping his cool, so he looked bored instead. "Tell me, Harry, or I'll spit in your ear."  
  
Harry sighed and pushed himself up with his arms. "They're, uh... about you and me, but throughout history, and..." He shrugged. "I start freaking out whenever we die in them."  _Or when we're forced to separate._  
  
Louis was surprisingly quiet at Harry's revelation. He didn't make fun of Harry or laugh at all. Instead, he asked, "Do you only see the bad stuff? No good stuff? Do you know  _why_  we die in them?"  
  
Harry leveled his gaze into Louis' eyes. He couldn't just say it. He couldn't. It would make things so much more complicated than they were right now. He was perfectly fine harboring a little... alright,  _huge_ , crush on Louis. But to tell Louis that they got hanged for sodomy in the 1690s? He wasn't sure that would go over well. "I don't know. Well, there are some where we die in war."  
  
"War." Louis repeated.  
  
"Yeah. Either way, we always die."  
  
"World War I?" Louis asked curiously.  
  
Harry nodded. That was surprisingly accurate. "Also a war in Ancient Greece, at least I think it was then. And... the American Civil War. We were British then, I know that for a fact, but we'd gone there, I guess, and..."  
  
"And died in a war. Are there any where we don't die in war?"  
  
Harry swallowed nervously at that. He couldn't tell Louis. Sure, it was true that they were both open-minded and Harry had a little experience with guys. But telling Louis the truth about this had the potential to fuck up their friendship. So he wasn't about to tell Louis when they were executed for being gay. "No."  
  
"Hmm." Louis looked thoughtful. "That's weird."  
  
"Maybe I should see a psychologist about it." Harry suggested. "We have a week off next week. We'd have time. I mean, the papers would probably make a big thing of it but maybe it's what I have to do. Maybe I should be hypnotized. Maybe I should get a hypnotist. Do you think I'd be allowed to do that?"  
  
Louis put an arm around Harry's shoulders and Harry leaned in to his touch. His heart skipped a beat.  
  
"Harry, we can pretty much do anything." Louis replied, and Harry rested his head against Louis'.  
  
  
Harry had their management set him up with an appointment with a hypnotist, avoiding the weird looks that they gave him when he asked. But it was the first thing in awhile that he'd asked for that would probably not get him into trouble, so they were fine with it overall. Niall happened to overhear and as soon as Harry ended his meeting with management, Niall was on his case.  
  
"You're seeing a  _hypnotist_?" Niall asked loudly as they walked down the hallway of their hotel.  
  
Harry shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "Seems fun."  
  
"You're weird, mate." Niall shook his head.  
  
Harry could deal with that.  
  
  
  
"When I ring the bell, you will see your dreams more clearly."  
  
Harry's eyes were closed, but he made a little sound to acknowledge what Tony, the professional hypnotist, had said. Harry was calm, and practically asleep. He'd done exercises so that Harry would almost fall asleep. The world had disappeared. He was still a bit aware of what was going on. He could hear Tony just a little. He was pretty sure that his response to Tony was barely a whisper.  
  
He had cleared his mind, but as soon as he heard the  _ding_ , he found himself drifting back in time. Back... back to Ancient Greece. Harry had been right; that was where they'd been. And he was an observer. The first thing was that he noticed it was it was some secret spot. It was... beautiful. So bright, and green. When he saw the two boys walking toward the water, hand-in-hand, Harry knew it was them. They looked so different from the dreams, but then again, they'd both died in battle in the dream. Harry took in the differences. He could tell who was who. Harry still had curly hair; that seemed to be his life-by-life trait. Louis was still... extremely pretty. They both looked different, of course, but it was still easy to who was who.  
  
Then the curly-haired one turned to the other. "Loukianos, you should go."  
  
"You want me to go home." Loukianos said, looking amused.  
  
But Greek Harry looked dead serious. "I mean you should leave Greece. You should go... go somewhere you can be free. I must go to war, and so will you if you do not leave."  
  
"You know I would not leave you, Heron." Loukianos assured him, tightening his grip on Heron's hand.  
  
Heron laughed bitterly. "Your parents would be glad to see us separated. Though there was a time they would have said different."  
  
"They can say nothing about it." Loukianos replied. "They raised us together. We took to each other and it was natural. Heron, I will go with you. You will need a companion."  
  
"You cannot risk your life-"  
  
"I would rather risk my life than you go to war and I never see you again." Loukianos interrupted. He stepped forward and kissed Heron fiercely, and Heron sighed against Loukianos' mouth.  
  
  
  
Then the scene changed, and they were in the Middle Ages. Harry already knew that their names were Louis and Edward. The names had been said as they were being executed.  
  
Louis watched Edward as he chopped wood to make something. Harry had no idea what, but he was more mesmerized by Louis' staring. Harry knew that Edward must be a carpenter, or something like that.  
  
"You are talented." Louis said when Edward finished chopping. He took off his protective gloves and wiped sweat from his forehead. His hair was a mess. Louis walked closer. "Very talented."  
  
"You know I would rather sing. I would rather play an instrument than do this." Edward shrugged. "But this will earn me money. People pay for these things I make."  
  
"Because you make them well." Louis insisted. "But I understand. You said you had to do this to help your family. I do the same. I am the one to bring our crops to the town. My mother cannot leave my sisters because they are young."  
  
Edward smiled. When their eyes met, a familiar look passed between them. Even though Harry was an observer, he could tell what it was. They fancied each other, but clearly they could do nothing about it. The law prohibited it, and even if they were not sentenced to death, they might face exile, torture, or imprisonment. They couldn't act on their feelings even though they both knew the feelings were there.  
  
Suddenly Louis blurted out, "I am to be married."  
  
Edward staggered back. The surprise was written all over his face, though Harry knew Edward shouldn't have been surprised. Boys their ages got married during the Middle Ages. It was just a fact of life. Still, he saw the hurt on his past self's face. "When?"  
  
"Soon." Louis didn't look happy. "She is a family friend, and she will come live on the farm."  
  
Edward nodded. "Ah."  
  
"You know that I-"  
  
"Louis," Edward interrupted, "It is what's right. You will be married and you will be happy. You will forget about me, and-"  
  
"I will  _not_  be happy!" Louis exclaimed, taking Edward by the shoulders. Edward's eyes widened. "I do not love her. You know who I love. A betrothal, even a marriage, will not change that. I want- I want to know you. Once. All I ask is once."  
  
Edward was breathing heavily now, and somehow their faces had gotten closer. He bit his lip, and then looked into Louis' eyes. There was longing in both their gazes. Harry almost couldn't take the sexual tension. "We cannot."  
  
" _Please_ ," Louis said, taking another step forward. "We would tell no one. No one would know. We would not be caught. I  _love_  you, Edward."  
  
Edward stared at Louis just a while longer. Finally he said, "It will be at night so that we will not be seen."  
  
Louis nodded. "I agree."  
  
"I will come to the farm." Edward said. "Tonight. Meet me outside at midnight. We will know each other. Once."  
  
They both agreed to it, but Harry knew it wouldn't be the end. Either they would get caught after that one time or they would keep it up and get caught eventually. It pained Harry to see them making plans that would ultimately lead to their deaths, but at the same time he was happy that they were so excited to be together.  
  
  
  
In the late 1690s, Henry had returned to Massachusetts to see his family. He was glad to find them so well, and when they asked after his studies, he spoke of everything he had learned in the past few years. Religion, languages, classics. He had learned so much, buried himself in his work. They said that they wished he would live in Salem again, but Henry knew he never could. Not if William Thompson still lived here.  
  
He bumped into William as he was walking to Church on his third day back. He began to apologize, but when he looked up into the other man's eyes, he recognized them immediately. William. His eyes were still the same, still beautiful. Harry was taken aback just how good-looking Louis was in this particular dream. Of course, he was handsome in all of them, but there was something about him in this one. He was wiser, maybe. Or perhaps it was that he was older than his Ancient Greek and Middle Ages selves.  
  
"Henry." William didn't seem awkward about it. Harry thought that maybe they'd never done anything and that was why. But Henry acted different. Harry knew that Henry couldn't handle being this close to William, not after what had gone on between them. Somehow Harry could pick up on a few of Henry's thoughts. And Henry's thoughts were definitely  _not_  pure.  
  
"William." Henry finally said. It seemed like he couldn't look away. Harry knew the feeling.  
  
"You have returned."  
  
"I have." Henry replied, "I am visiting my mother and sister."  
  
"You must come to my house and visit my family!" William said, suddenly excited. They couldn't hug, not without making people suspicious, so instead William shook Henry's hand enthusiastically. Harry wanted to laugh, though he obviously couldn't. "You will eat with us. I will not say no. I have a son now. He will be four years old next month and you must meet him."  
  
Henry grumbled. William knew that children were Henry's weakness. He loved their innocence, their potential to learn, how they spoke of the world. He loved taking care of them and he loved feeling needed. They had discussed Henry's parental instincts long ago, and it seemed that William remembered. Finally he relented. "Alright."  
  
  
John, William's son, was a sweet boy who had apparently been given the full name "John Henry Thompson." Henry flushed when William announced that fact and looked to William's wife to see if she suspected anything strange. But she smiled genuinely at him and Henry smiled back. Goody Thompson was very nice, and inside Henry felt guilty for all that he might have caused had he stayed in Salem.  
  
  
But guilt didn't stop them. When night came and they went to the back of the house, Henry found William irresistible in the moonlight. Harry watched as William revealed everything, how much he loved Henry, and how he had ached for him ever since Henry had left for Pennsylvania. Harry watched Henry admit that he still felt the same as he had, but clearly nothing could happen. They could not add upon their sin. Though Harry had studied religion and repented every day of his life, he knew he could not change the sin he had already committed with William.  
  
But then, there in the dark, William took Henry into his arms and when their mouths met, Henry seemed to stop caring. He didn't push William away. In fact,  _he_  was the one to undress William in a frenzy, kissing his right ear and his neck as he slipped William's trousers down to the ground.  
  
Harry knew it wasn't right. After all, Past Louis was married, and Henry had promised not to come between William and his wife. But he also could tell that Henry and William were in love. Fuck the rules, fuck society, fuck the law. Nothing seemed fair in this time period, just like it hadn't in the Middle Ages. He felt like blushing as he watched the passion between them with fascination, but as they kissed again, the scene changed.  
  
  
  
This time, Harry  _was_  his dream self. He wasn't an observer, not really. Instead he was a participant. The problem was that he couldn't control himself. He was inside his dream self's body, and he knew exactly where he was creeping to at this time of night.  
  
Harry held up a candle as he walked across the hall and knocked on the door. When he opened it, he found Louis there, pretending to be asleep. It was their usual routine. Harry set the candle down on the table near Louis' door, and asked, "Are you asleep?"  
  
But of course, Louis wasn't. He sat up, feigning surprise. "Sir! What are you doing here?"  
  
Sir. So Louis had worked for Harry, most likely.  
  
"May I join you?" Harry asked cautiously, even though he knew the answer.  
  
Louis lifted the covers and Harry slid into bed next to him. He kissed Louis' cheek, and still Louis pretended to be surprised. Harry realized then what they were doing. They were  _roleplaying_. Louis was pretending to be this innocent, blushing virgin though they had probably done this several times before. Harry could tell they had by the way they kissed. They were skilled at it, happy, and not surprised. Did Louis even work for Harry, or was that part of it as well?  
  
Harry undressed Louis skillfully, teasing Louis by grazing his teeth along Louis' neck. Because Harry was  _inside_  his past self, he had a full view of everything. He could even feel when he kissed Louis all the way down to his privates, which resulted in a short, entirely fake gasp from Louis. When he made his way back up, he kissed Louis on his mouth. "I want you, Louis. Or you will hand in your resignation."  
  
Louis laughed loudly at that, because he knew that Harry would never fire him, not even if they weren't sleeping together. But then he remembered his role and nodded, spreading his legs further so that Harry could prepare him. Harry did so, as he had several times before. Harry dove under the covers and did just that. He had grabbed the lotion off of Louis' dresser on his way over to the bed, and used that to lube up Louis' hole. Harry, inside the other Harry, clearly couldn't do anything, but he did feel like he was intruding. Still, when Harry touched Louis, Louis whined. He wanted this, and he wanted it  _now_.  
  
Harry fingered Louis after that, telling him how he had wanted this all day. How he couldn't wait until the day was done and the servants had all gone to bed. How he would never, ever let Louis go, and how he loved him. Soon Louis was begging Harry to fuck him. Well, not in those words, but Harry interpreted it that way.  
  
And then the scene was gone.  
  
  
Harry knew who the next boys were immediately. Again, Harry's name was the same, but Louis' was Luigino, shortened to Lu. And they were fucking. And again, Harry was inside the other Harry. He could feel  _everything_  as he moved inside Lu, and he knew exactly why he cried out when he did. He couldn't believe this had happened to him. That he'd found this boy, someone he knew he was meant to be with, upon his first trip to Italy. All of this, it felt so familiar, like they'd done this before.  
  
Harry also knew that this was his last night in Italy. Tomorrow he would return home to England, and he wasn't sure when he would be back. He considered coming here for university, but he had a feeling his family would never agree to that. A visit was alright. Traveling was alright. But moving to Italy most likely wasn't. Not until he was more independent and ready to live on his own.  
  
When they were finished, Harry held Lu and kissed him on the side of his mouth. "I don't know how I can leave you."  
  
"Don't leave." Lu said, though they both knew Harry's staying was impossible for the time being.  
  
"I'll come back. I promise." Harry vowed.  
  
  
The scene shifted to a few months later. Harry knocked on Lu's door. When Lu answered, they took each other's appearances in. Lu looked the same, though his hair was a little longer. He launched himself at Harry, hugging him tightly.  
  
After they made love, they lay on Lu's bed, facing each other. Harry said, "I have something to tell you."  
  
"What?" Lu asked, smiling.  
  
"I'm coming here for university." Harry revealed. In the end, he had been able to convince his parents. He wanted to learn about the Italian culture; that was what he said. Really, he just wanted to study one Italian boy.  
  
"Here?" Lu replied. He sat up, surprised, but pleased.  
  
"Yes." Harry told him. "Right here in this city."  
  
Lu kissed him. "And of course you will live with me."  
  
Harry couldn't be happier.  
  
  
When the Archduke and his wife were murdered, Harry knew something big would happen. He had finished university years ago, but he was still living with Lu. They both worked, but Harry suggested leaving the country. He told Lu that he felt like something big was about to happen. Something terrible.  
  
Lu trusted him, but he reminded Harry that there were not many places they could go where they would be allowed to love each other as they did. They decided to go to Belgium, hoping that they could live peacefully.  
  
But as Harry watched his past self make plans with Lu, he knew peace wasn't what would happen.  
  
  
  
More varied scenes passed before Harry's eyes, though the detail was hazy and Harry figured that was why he hadn't dreamed of these scenes. New lives passed by. The past lives he knew about weren't the only ones he and Louis had lived. They had lived in Ancient Egypt. They had been Vikings. There was another Middle Ages life when Louis was a lord and Harry was the servant. They had also met during World War II, dying soon after. He only got brief flashes of those lives before the bell dinged and he was suddenly back in the room with Tony.  
  
  
As soon as he came to, Harry sat up quickly, breathing heavily. He looked at Tony. "I've been reincarnated. A lot."  
  
"I suspected it." Tony nodded knowingly. "Each version of you and Louis seem to be a past life of yours."  
  
"We always die." Harry said quietly. He had to talk to Louis.  
  
"Everyone dies." Tony reminded him gently.  
  
Harry looked him square in the eye. "Louis and I always die through war or execution. I...." He took out his wallet and fished through it for some money. "Here."  
  
Tony waved his hand. "Your management already paid the bill for you. Don't worry about it. Just go talk to Louis about this if you wish. Figure out what you want to do."  
  
Harry's heart beat hard against his chest. He was going to do it. He had to tell Louis everything. They'd been lovers. He had to be honest. It would risk their friendship, but he felt the same about Louis as his past self had felt about Louis' past lives. He'd never really considered it, but if he was right, it was possible that they were soulmates. Yeah. That word sounded right.  
  
  
Harry stayed quiet about the whole thing until one evening on their day off. They didn't have many of them while they were on tour. It happened to be a pretty gross, rainy day. The perfect day to be lazy. So Harry and Louis slept late in the hotel, and that afternoon they ate there. At lunch, Harry told Louis, "I have to tell you about the hypnotist."  
  
"Only if you want to." Louis said immediately. "Should we go back to the room for this?" He looked around. There were some fans around, as there always were whenever they stayed at hotels. Luckily none of these fans had interrupted their meal, though Harry could see some freaking out, probably at the "Larry Stylinson Date."  
  
Back at the room, Louis sat on his bed looking up at Harry expectantly. Harry couldn't help smiling. He looked so cute today in his red jumper and beanie. But quickly he became serious again and said, "Well, so... like..."  
  
"None of that today. Out with it, Harry, if you're telling me." Louis interrupted.  
  
"Do you believe in reincarnation?" Harry asked him. "Because I think that's what's happening. We've been reincarnated a bunch of times. And... we've, like.... um..."  
  
Louis reached out with his hand and took Harry's. Harry sighed and sat next to him. Harry faced him, and Louis was moving closer. Suddenly they were kissing. Harry was so shocked at first, but soon he relaxed into the kiss and closed all of the distance between them. It felt so right, so familiar. It was like it was meant to be and like they'd done this before. Then the kiss ended, and Harry said, "Yeah. That's..."  
  
"Harry, I know."  
  
Harry stared. "You  _know_?"  
  
Louis nodded. "I've been having dreams, too. For a long time. Since we've become a band. Even while I was going out with Hannah and El. I would always dream about us in the past, and we'd be hooking up. But until you started having  _your_  dreams I thought my dreams were just... dreams."  
  
Harry squinted at Louis suspiciously. He had to test Louis. "What was your Ancient Greek name then?"  
  
"Loukianos." Louis shook his head. He was right. "And I've wanted to be with you since we met and it freaked me out so much. I know I pulled away and you thought I was happy with Eleanor and stuff... And plus we're in One Direction, you know? What if we were together and... well, what would happen if we broke up? We have past lives, though. It's proof that we're supposed to be together I think. I've never seen us die, though. In all of my dreams, we were happy."  
  
"Great," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "I got the death parts and you got the hot parts. I did see some when I was hypnotized though." He smiled at Louis. "We really were..."  
  
Louis actually looked sheepish and  _blushed_. He knew that Harry was referring to their past lives' sexual experiences. "I guess," Louis said, "We're going to have to make our own memories."  
  
They kissed again. They ended up snogging for awhile, and touching each other in places they never had. Harry couldn't be happier. But there was one nagging thought in the back of his head and he had to ask. So he pulled away from Louis just a little, who lay under him expectantly. They were both hard, and Harry knew Louis wanted to get off. Harry wanted that as well, and he didn't really want to  _talk_ , but if they were going to do this, it was necessary.  
  
"Doesn't it bother you that we always die young?" Harry asked him. "What happens if we die this time?"  
  
"We won't," Louis assured him, kissing Harry's cheek. "We figured it out. And there's no way we're going to get executed for being together now. And we're  _not_  going to go to war. It's always one of those, isn't it?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Exactly. We're safe this time, Harry. We're going to die of old age, or something like that. We're going to be okay. I just want to be with you and I'm tired of acting like I don't."  
  
Harry was pretty sure he was swooning. Instead of replying verbally, he bent down to kiss Louis again and show him just how much he believed him.


	3. Future

_England, 2387_  
  
  
Haze had been waiting all his life for this. Of course, that hadn't been very long and he hadn't been sure what he was waiting for, but he knew as soon as the boy stepped into the hallway. The boy couldn't see him, and Haze hid behind the desk, watching. The boy held up his tablet, as if trying to read a map of the building. Students walked past the boy, kind of shoving him aside. The boy looked completely lost.  
  
"What are you looking at?"  
  
Haze glanced down at the screen of his own tablet. His older sister had appeared. Jewel at him knowingly, though she couldn't  _possibly_  know. Haze had never told anyone what he knew, because he hadn't been able to.  
  
"Jewel, hi." Haze said. "Nothing."  
  
"Aren't you supposed to be working?"  
  
It was true. Haze worked in the school's office, which was where he was now. He operated the office tablets and computers and he organized information about different students. Usually students came from all over the country to attend this college. They were day students, but obviously they could get here within a half hour if they used air transport, fifteen if they used ground.  
  
And part of Haze's job was to introduce new students to life at the Academy. So he said goodbye to his sister, rose from his seat, and walked over to the new boy.  
  
The boy looked up as Haze approached him. His eyes widened with recognition. Yes, it was there. The boy hadn't forgotten, not even after all this time. Haze was starting to remember, just by looking at the other boy.  
  
"Hi," Haze said, smiling.  
  
"It's you." said the boy. "I know you."  
  
"I'm Haze. And I know you too." Haze stuck out his hand to shake but it didn't seem sufficient. They knew each other better than that, even though neither of them was sure how.  
  
"Lou." the boy said, shaking Haze's hand. They couldn't stop staring at each other. Haze wasn't sure why, but he began studying Lou's features, compare them with what he  _expected_  Lou to look like. Though that made no sense.  
  
As they walked down the hall, both boys holding their tablets tightly, Haze said, "I work in the office and I'm in my last year here. So I decided to give you a tour. Most of the teachers are holograms, of course, even though this is one of the only schools students actually  _attend_." Most students didn't leave their homes for school. They could do their work over their computers and tablets. They could work out maths equations on their touch-screen walls and send them to teachers who might live somewhere across the ocean. But Haze had always liked in-person interaction. And now he knew why.  
  
  
They became fast friends. As their friendship progressed, Haze began to remember exactly how they knew each other, though it was very strange. He began to have memories of boys named Harry and Louis, Henry and William, Louis and Edward, and more. They shared these memories with each other. They had known each other throughout history, but it made no sense that they knew about it now. They weren't supposed to know about their past lives, were they?  
  
Haze changed his mind when he had another memory. One of his past selves had discovered the past lives, and the pattern had been changed. It seemed that after that, they knew what had been going on. There had only been one past life between that one from the early twenty-first century and now, and Haze was pretty sure their past lives had figured it out then as well.  
  
So it only made too much sense that he was attracted to Lou in every way possible. It wasn't a secret for long. They kissed one night after a school event, a dance. Dances never happened anymore, but it was History Month, and dances were a part of it. They danced together and kissed as it was always going to happen.  
  
And they stayed together. More memories revealed themselves. Sometimes Haze would wake up from a past life dream and call Lou on his tablet. Lou always answered, and most of the time he'd been having the same one. When they finished college, they moved in together and began university. This time, they did attend school over the computer part of the time. They studied different things. Lou wanted to teach drama, and Haze studied law. Lou was required to attend in-person classes because of his subjects, but he always,  _always_  came home to Haze.  
  
Sometimes after they made love at night, they would lay there and reveal more memories. They had been famous in the twenty-first century. For  _singing_. Old music was preserved, so it was easy to find all of the music One Direction had made. When they looked up the history of One Direction, they found that Harry and Louis had gotten married, had kids, and outlived any of their previous past lives. Whatever dying-young curse they had experienced had disappeared during that lifetime.  
  
Haze sometimes wondered how many lifetimes they would go through. This had to end sometime.  
  
But not in this lifetime.  
  
  
  
 _Iceland, 4922_  
  
  
Hinrik knew the moment he saw him. He had marched right up to the staff at the air transport center and complained about the delay. Hinrik would normally be annoyed, but he found the other young man so gorgeous that he watched in awe. He knew who the other boy was, of course. He remembered everything.  
  
"Look in the records again! My name is Lu- Why don't I just send you the information again?" He pulled out his small handheld and tapped the screen. "I am looking for someone, and it's very important that I leave now."  
  
Hinrik smiled to himself. Lu was looking for him. He must have followed his schedule, which was pretty readily available. His tour schedule was available to everyone through their tablets. Hinrik looked past his guard a bit more clearly. Lu looked perfect. Just as Hinrik remembered.  
  
Though he knew Lu would know him, he was still nervous. He was always nervous every time he approached a new Louis.  _Lu_ , he corrected himself.  
  
"I'll be right back." Hinrik suddenly said to his guard, dropping his bag before his guard could say anything. His guard, a huge foreign man, started ranting to himself in German. First, partying till all hours in Switzerland, and now this.  
  
Hinrik approached Lu, ignoring the stares of the others in the air transport center. They all knew who he was, and whispered to each other. He could talk to them later if they wanted. Right now it was Lu who mattered.  
  
"Found you."  
  
Lu froze and spun around. "Hinrik?"  
  
"In this lifetime, anyway."  
  
Lu grinned widely and pulled Hinrik into a warm embrace. "We found each other again."  
  
Hinrik rested his head against Lu's familiar one and breathed in his scent. Yeah, it was different, but he knew it. He'd always know this boy. And he had to assure him of that.  
  
"We're always going to find each other."  
  
Lu pulled back from the hug and smiled just in time for Hinrik to draw him in for a kiss.


End file.
